revisionist poetry

now here is an example of something i have in perhaps twenty different versions many with entirely different opinions, the one i found in the garage was nowhere near the one i remember liking. so i revised it again. and will most likely continue to do so … indefinitely. ’cause it’s not done. and incidentally, i’ve lived in ventura for eighteen years now. and i feel totally differently about it now. but i remember in a vague way what i was trying to say, and i want it to say that, the tenth year thing. no matter how long it takes.

you know, so posting something in sixteen minutes is well, unusual. to say the least.

***
now. the version here has been reworked. the old version is in the comments. the difference is … well, one is nearly done (this one) and the other one, well, the other one sucked. not horribly, but still. this is what i meant, when i said not done — i meant, it hadn’t become this yet. big difference. trust me.
***

ventura in the tenth year

time moves
at a dream’s pace,
hours passing
for days as
we become
attuned to the benign
and begin blending, our
edges replaced with
soft-focus complacency,
a consistency not at all
dissimilar to the summer
sunrise, all hushed tones
whitemist and wetsand
obscuring any appearance
of controversy, here where
nothing is uneasy, where our
collective somnolence on
any one sunday is
likely to continue
long after brunch
and then go strolling
downtown, browsing,
eventually ending
spent
in a suffusion of
restful peace
in this
intimate indolence,
in this
town ten years have
shown me
is really only extremely
dreamy and very very
little else.

-(me) 1995

10 thoughts on “revisionist poetry

  1. oh no, it can’t be wow, it’s not … it’s nowhere near. by tonight it’ll be totally different though, but only in very subtle ways.

  2. no no no no no it’s not done. there are lines breaking in the wrong places. there is misplaced punctuation and there are places the euphony fails without some other saving grace. and there are at least a few points missed.

    it is so not done.

  3. ok. look. i just spent a good five mintues fooling with it. this was the version y’all said was done. the one up there is the one that i would say is more done but not all the way.

    big big difference.

    ventura in the tenth year

    time moves
    at a dream’s pace,
    hours passing
    for days
    as one becomes
    attuned to the benign and
    begins to blend,
    edges replaced with
    soft-focus complacency, a
    consistency not at all
    dissimilar to the
    summer sunrise, all hushed tones
    of whitemist and
    wetsand obscuring any
    appearance of controversy, here where
    nothing is uneasy, where our
    collective somnolence
    continues
    well past brunch
    then goes strolling
    downtown, browsing,
    eventually ending
    spent
    in a suffusion of
    restful peace in this
    intimate indolence,
    here in this place
    which is really only extremely
    dreamy and very very
    little else.

    -(me) 1995

  4. <sigh> Speaking as one with the same disease process: it’s not done until the author says it’s done.

    But, darn, it is good!

  5. my point being, it’s far better now than it was before i tuned it up. i put it up pretty raw for a complete rework of an only copy, as an example.

    i mean, i don’t know if it’s blaringly obvious to anyone but me, but when i read through the old version, in the comments, i find it halting, uneven, and awkward. and the revised version? it flows, it even has a little grace. it’s almost if not all the way there, we’ll see by tomorrow. i revise less these days, but … i’m going to tune up the whole pile of stuff, everything from the garage. there is so much.

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